Truth stems from the heart
by Headcanonftw
Summary: Eventual Johnlock. Flashbacks to Sherlock and John in their teen years, and showing how their individual relationships have progressed. Will be some funny and awkward situations further in, so rated M to be safe.


John Watson seemed to be in a similar situation where he was being questioned over his so-called "relationship" with his colleague, flat-mate and friend Sherlock Holmes. After he had been in this man's company for around about two years, he had gathered he would have to expect the widest variety of jokes and snide comments about his sexuality. And as far as he was concerned, John Watson was very much a perfectly normal heterosexual male, thank you very much. Whilst he had come to face the reality of having to expect these comments, he never truly had found the right way to deal with them, apart from awkwardly mumbling a denial, his cheeks blushing a bright scarlet colour. His counter-part however, seemed to not only fail to discourage the rumours, but by not acknowledging them at all, making the situation seem rather tense, where John is quickly trying to cover up the sudden change in atmosphere.

Sherlock Holmes had never been the kind of person who was interested in having a relationship. If he was being quite honest with himself, he wasn't really interested in friendship, as he had never failed to maintain one before the other half of the equation left. As an adult, Sherlock had grown to show a small liking for certain people. And by that he could at least stand to be in their presence for an extended amount of time without getting agitated or annoyed and wanting to tear his hair out. Although, he would only consider these people to be acquaintances of his (with the exception of his one friend, John Watson). Being very work orientated, he not only had no interest in relationships, but simply wouldn't be able to squeeze them into his hectic schedule.

As a teenager, Sherlock wasn't doing the norms of what most teenage boys were expected to do. Rather than going out drinking, getting with girls and having what they consider "fun", he was studying for his well-earned higher level education, going back and reading classic novellas and definitely and most certainly NOT getting any action with the girls. His brother noted on his sociopathic behaviour and then organised a small party at their home, one weekend while their parents were away with work. The brothers naturally coming from a rich background, had more than enough capacity at their large house for more than enough people, but people seemed to avoid the get together as the brothers were not the most desirable people to be around- Sherlock a quiet yet sometimes arrogant and cocky know-it-all and Mycroft a snobby, typical privileged lad. He had gathered his small group of followers who were at his beckoning call to wherever they went off gallivanting. He was well respected at school, but secretly hated on, having all of his popularity gone to his head.

On this particular memorable night, with the small amount of attendees (about 15-20 people) there was plenty of room for them and the brothers to sit in a circle on the floor of their large lounge area. Sherlock, having being dragged out of his study by his older sibling who wanted him to "stop being so antisocial, try and actually make some friends", had given up on arguing so was resisting on going to finish his most recent experiment and instead joined them. Going around the circle, he saw the familiar band of Mycroft's followers. Carl, the most desperate wannabe of all time, clings to Mycroft in an obsessive-stalker kind of way. It was clear to Sherlock that Carl was urging to be with his older brother, but there was a problem... Lucy, Mycroft's on and off bitch of a girlfriend. One minute they were having a major argument, the next they are fucking in...well wherever they can find an empty room, Sherlock had walked on them way too many times too often.

While Sherlock was going around the circle, he began inflicting his opinion on everybody there. Internally of course, he didn't feel like getting beat up by yet another of Mycroft's little minions whilst Mycroft is too busy sticking his tongue down Lucy's throat. Having come to the conclusion that pretty much everybody there was an arrogant dick, a cheap slut or simply has a way too low intelligence so every time they speak he will want to punch them, he was about to get up and leave not being able to stand the idea of spending all night with these people, he came across the last person.

Sherlock hadn't seen this girl around before, from what he could tell she was a cousin of one of the loudest girls there. He soon learned that her name was Carrie, she seemed relatively quiet, more of a listener than a talker, Sherlock appreciated that. After getting to the age of 14 and having had no sexual attraction to anyone before, Sherlock had firmly decided he was asexual and wouldn't make way for relationships in his lifetime. But there was something about this girl that Sherlock saw differently, Sherlock could only think one thing, she was fit. He had never had those sort of feelings about anybody else before, but for Carrie, Sherlock really did find her attractive.

A couple of hours passed by and people had helped themselves to enough drink so that everyone had got to the point where they couldn't walk in a straight line. Even Sherlock had drank a fair amount, so that with a mixture of all of these new emotions and cheap alcohol, he was planning to try and talk to her. Then some brainiac decided to start a game of spin the bottle. Completely dull and predictable, thought a tiring Sherlock, nothing less could be expected from such an Americanised group of youngsters. Each partnership would have to step out of the room and kiss for two minutes. Feeling awkward and agitated, Sherlock was seriously considered abandoning the group, for fear of embarrassment, never having kissed a girl before, or anybody for that matter. Then a small glimmer of hope shone as a thought popped into his head, Carrie was involved in this game to, he may be able to get somewhere. The game continued on and a wide variety of new partnerships were arising. Carl and Chloe. Matt and Kayley. Sarah and Rachel. Matt and Rachel. Mycroft and Lucy. Typical, thought Sherlock, another excuse for them to be left in a darkened room together.

Neither Sherlock nor Carrie had been picked for anybody about half an hour into this pathetic excuse for teenagers to get together. Until, the bottle spun once more and landed defiantly on Sherlock, people started to whisper, Sherlock was most sure he heard the word "frigid" spread about. Mycroft's bitch of a girlfriend whisked the bottle round, spinning for what seems to be an eternity. Sherlock knew exactly where it would point and land. Carrie. She smiled, showing a flash of her pearly white teeth. "Well I guess it's me!" said Carrie, standing up and walking over to Sherlock, "Come on then sweetie." she said reaching her hand down to Sherlock. Realising this was his gesture to hold onto it and get up, he did so and the newly found couple walked out of the room hand in hand.

Once the door had been firmly pulled shut behind them, Carrie turned to Sherlock and smiled. Grabbing onto his free hand with her own, so they were facing each other. Sherlock was gazing over her fondly, like a puppy. She noticed this behaviour and gave a hearty laugh, "You're so cute!" she said, ruffling his hair, as his dark curls bounced around on his head. Sherlock was speechless. He didn't know how to talk to girls he liked, he normally couldn't stand being in the presence of anyone with a lower intelligence than him, but she was amazing. She returned to a serious stature, looking into his deep grey eyes she stated, "Look, I saw how uncomfortable you were in that room and that you don't really want to be there. This is all big and scary for you so why don't we bluff and say we kissed and all. Don't get me wrong, you're adorable, but I don't really wanna be at this party either." Sherlock just stood gaping at her, not having uttered a word. He mumbled a nervous and disheartened, "O-Okay." She smiled again, dazzling Sherlock, turning her head to one side she declared, "You're really a sweet guy, we should hang out sometime." She planted a quick kiss on Sherlock's lips. Just a gentle lip bump, but Sherlock felt a warmth go right through him and build him as he returned to the group, slightly disappointed and finally decided he was never going to be interested in relationships. Women were just too complicated.

Sherlock Holmes probably wouldn't regard that as a relationship. He wouldn't really want to remember his awkward teenage encounters and resorts back to his life of being a sociopathic, slightly Aspergeric, asexual, world's only consulting detective. With his one and only friend Dr John Watson.

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**Don't worry, much Johnlock to come, please R & R! (Also, anything you want to see, speak up)**

**This story was actually written by VICKY again, so give her your praise. :)**


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